Wolfwitch

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Wolfwitch Shirelle Higgins Copyright © 2011 by Shirelle Higgins All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author‟s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Les Byerley http://www.les3photo8.com/ Editor: Stephanie Parent Proofreader: Novellette Whyte http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/ Formatter: Savannah J. Frierson, http://sjfbooks.com/editing/ E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/ ISBN: (eBook): 978-1-61788-103-9; (print): 978-1-61788104-6

For an old friend, and a man I consider a nephew.

NOTE ABOUT EBOOKS eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

CAVEAT This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

CHAPTER ONE Seriously, how did she find herself in these situations? Her brother would say it was because she was the spawn of Satan, and on days like today, Bobbie got the feeling that he might be on to something. Surely no one else in the history of the world ever found herself, her human self, in the middle of a vampire/werewolf drama. Sigh. The

man

standing

before

her was

obviously someone‟s brainwashed vampire lackey. She could see the bruising around his neck and the barely healing puncture wounds that all lackeys proudly displayed. But it was the nightstick he was handling that held most of her attention. The man obviously meant her harm. With the way he tapped his baton against the palm of his other hand and advanced in her direction, his intentions were clear. But she just couldn‟t help thinking this was all a bad episode of

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Saturday Night Live. Tap, tap, tap. “Do you know what this is?” Tap, tap, tap. “This is my fuck-stick.” Mentally she rolled her eyes as she backed up a few steps, trying to put distance between her and the lunatic in front of her. Her brother was going to kill her for taking a walk by herself through the packlands after dark. But really, who would‟ve thought she wouldn‟t be safe in her own packlands? What kind of moron would dare enter these lands without an invitation? And then the moron spoke again. “Do you know why I call this my fuck-stick?” More tapping. “Because I‟m going to use it to fuck”— and he pointed it right at her—“you up!” Bobby had to fight not to giggle. The man had said “fuck you up” in the same ridiculous rhythm that the two overly developed men on Saturday Night Live said, “We‟re going to pump...you up!” Complete with crappy Arnold Schwarzenegger-wannabe accents. It was all so outrageous that she actually took her eyes off

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the “fuck-stick” to look for the hidden cameras her

brother

must

have

set

up.

Her

independence worried him so much that she wouldn‟t put it past him to set this scam up as a way to teach her a lesson. In fact... That was all Bobbie managed to think before everything went dark. If she lived through this, she was never going to forgive herself for allowing such an idiot to get the best of her. *** Bobbie pondered the unbelievable idiocy of her situation as she bounced around in the back of a dirty, smelly old trunk. Her head was pounding, and a tentative touch to her temple revealed the goose egg the “fuck-stick” had gifted her with. At least she was still alive—that had to count for something. If a vampire wants you dead, you‟re pretty much dead, so the fact that she was still alive meant they had a use for her. The only problem was: would she rather be

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dead, or useful to a vampire? The car made a sharp turn onto a very smooth surface and slowed down considerably. All Bobbie could think was, Crap, as she suddenly realized how much she preferred the trunk to whatever was waiting for her outside. After screeching to a halt, a door was yanked open. There were sounds of scuffling, then a slam that rocked the car briefly onto two wheels. Holy hell, what’s going on? “Where‟s the dog?” At least that‟s what Bobbie thought she heard. Everything sounded muffled and far away in the trunk. “In...in

the

trunk,

my

lord.”

Yup.

Definitely talking about her. And did “my lord” really just call her a dog? There was a bone-jarring thunk as something heavy slammed against the car, and then silence. Eerie, scary movie, the-killer‟scoming-to-get-you silence. Broken only by the scarier

footsteps-coming-slowly-in-your-

direction sound. Crap again. She squirmed around a bit so she could

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peek through the tiny hole near the bottom of where the taillight should be, but it offered no useful information. Unless knowing that her potential killer wore expensive dress shoes with black laces was useful. Squirming again, she readied

herself

for

what

was

to

come.

Thankfully the dumbass who‟d hit her hadn‟t bothered to frisk her. *** James didn‟t even look back to see if the man he had thrown against the car was still alive. The idiot had ignored every one of his rules concerning how the werewolf should be treated. This wasn‟t supposed to be a terrifyand-brutalize-the-victim mission, but more of a detain-and-try-to-talk-reasonably-about-thewolfwitch mission. Shaking his head, he sighed and fumbled with the release mechanism, thinking of how he could possibly avoid an inter-species war when a tiny shrieking woman flew out of the trunk

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and latched onto him. He was so surprised all he could do was catch her and try to avoid having his face ripped off by her claws. Or were they just fingernails? Was this a woman or a banshee? The situation would have been comical if it weren‟t for the wooden stake that he suddenly realized was protruding from his chest. How the hell had she managed that? Finally taking control of the situation, James easily restrained both of the woman‟s wrists and walked back to the already dead man slumped against the car. Still holding the shrieking were-devil, he landed a well-placed kick that broke the man‟s neck. Not only had he beat a woman unconscious, but he had failed to check her for weapons. The man deserved to die twice. Still restraining the woman‟s wrists behind her back, James managed to use his free hand to pry out the stake. The look on her face was almost worth the pain of having a wooden stake shoved through his heart, but he managed to not sound even a little amused

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when he addressed her. “That was not wise, Little Wolf.” She managed to spit what he could only assume was holy water in his face. Where the hell was she keeping all these weapons? Not willing to risk the chance that she might actually be carrying something that would hurt him—not likely, since he was so old—James finally plopped her on her feet. The movement was so rough and startling that she would have fallen to the ground if he didn‟t already have his hands all over her, frisking her. She swatted at him angrily, but without the element of surprise on her side, she was no match for him at all. When he was certain she wasn‟t hiding any more surprises, he grabbed her upper arm and pulled the hissing, spitting, must-be-awere-cat-because-she-doesn‟t-act-like-a-wolf woman into his home and tried to talk reasonably with her. Looking

deep

into

her

eyes,

he

demanded: “Stop fighting me,” to which she

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18

responded by trying to knee him in the groin. Only the fact that he was so old and fast saved him from that small humiliation. Once again, and putting even more of a “push” behind his voice, he told her to stop. It had been a long time since anyone had made him work for it, but this woman actually pushed his abilities to the limit. James had a true gift when it came to compulsion, even among vampires. It was nothing to compel a human, but he could even compel Weres, which was almost unheard of. This Were, however, was making him sweat. He was actually shaking by the time he could feel her yielding. It was almost as if... But no, that wasn‟t possible. He could clearly see the mating mark on her upper right arm. The same mark that all mated wolves in this region bore. Whether the werewolf was born or turned, once fate decided he or she was mated to someone, the same mystical design appeared in exactly the same place. She couldn‟t be destined for him.

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James had been alone so long he had dismissed the possibility of ever finding a mate. But the difficulty he was having controlling her made him think, for just the briefest of moments, that she might have been meant for him. And dammit, the fact that she wasn‟t actually made his heart hurt. Straining to keep her still for just a little bit longer, he did the one thing he swore he would never do. He called in a favor from the Fae.

CHAPTER TWO One moment Bobbie was fighting for her life, the next she was lying in an insanely lush bed staring up at a ridiculously handsome man. Her head felt muddy and her movements were sluggish. She also knew she should be fighting. Or screaming. Or something, but she just couldn‟t muster up the energy. “What have you done to me?” she finally managed to get out. The vampire god folded his arms and shook his head at her, like she was a child who had just been caught sneaking out of bed at night. “You were causing quite a ruckus. I merely took away your will to fight me so you would listen to reason.” Well that sounds completely reasonable, was the first thing Bobbie thought. The next was: How dare that stupid, pompous, bastard! For a moment she thought she saw concern flickering across his magnificent face,

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but it was so quickly replaced by amusement that she thought she might be mistaken. “You‟re very difficult to control, Little Wolf,” he explained. “I had to bring in reinforcements.” Lord, even his voice was sexy. Bobbie shook her head to try and dispel the embarrassing effect he was having on her. He had kidnapped her, for goodness‟ sake! She shouldn‟t be drooling over him. “What do you want from me?” The vampire Adonis leaned so close she thought he would bite her. Her stupid, traitorous body even tilted her head back to give him better access. Dammit! She‟d been resisting vampire mojo for years! Why was this one so different? “I need you to stop an inter-species incident.” He breathed the words across her neck, and she shivered because she couldn‟t help it. “Your mate is about to start a war.” The word “mate” had sounded bitter coming from his mouth. She wondered what could possibly cause him to sound like that

22

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when what he‟d said finally sank in, and she laughed. “My mate”—the word sounded just as bitter coming from her own mouth—“couldn‟t find a hole in the ground even if he was standing in it. You must have him mistaken with someone else.” “You don‟t care for your mate?” The question, and the intensity with which he waited for her answer, left her unsettled and off guard. She almost blurted out how hateful and spiteful her mate was. How she dreamed of waking up from the nightmare that was her life with her “real” mate lying by her side. The mate who would comfort her and love her no matter what her faults, instead of abuse and ridicule her. However, she managed to gather her wits first and responded with, “That‟s none of your damn business.” “That‟s a very telling answer,” he replied, but before she could spew venom at him he changed the subject. “Regardless of how you feel about him, it has been discovered that he

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has been holding the wolfwitch hostage.” Okay. Maybe Bobbie really was on a reality TV show, because this was just too hard to believe. And besides, “What the hell is a wolfwitch, anyway?” *** James was pacing in frustration. The woman, or Bobbie as she insisted on being called, was infuriating in her disbelief. It didn‟t matter that she hadn‟t been a werewolf long enough to be an expert on the lore. It didn‟t matter that her mate had kept her secluded and ignorant. It didn‟t matter that she knew the things-that-go-bump-in-the-night

are

very

frequently real. She just absolutely, positively refused to believe wolfwitches existed, or that her mate was capable of hiding a hostage from her all this time. “Tell me again how you know all this,” she demanded. Sigh. “Two years ago, the oracle who

SHIRELLE HIGGINS

24

advises the Council of the Supernatural...” “C.O.T.S.” She giggled at the ridiculous name. Sigh again. “C.O.T.S.,” he repeated, “foretold the birth of the first wolfwitch in a century.” “And what is a wolfwitch?” she asked sarcastically. “The wolfwitch, as there can only be one in a generation, can be born of any Wereanimal species, but is marked by her inability to shift. She can wield some earth magic, like the Fae, but more importantly has the ability to control how the moon affects all shifters.” “So, in theory, this wolfwitch could keep shifters from shifting for all eternity?” James was thoughtful for a moment before answering. “In theory, you are correct. However, it would be a serious abuse of the power she is given. The wolfwitch is supposed to keep balance and harmony in the shifting world, not cause strife.” “Is that why there hasn‟t been a wolfwitch

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in a century? She misused her powers?” Her perceptiveness, and the fact that she seemed genuinely interested in the answer, surprised him. “Yes. The last wolfwitch was actually part of a cat-shifter pride—„wolf‟ is just a name. Her Felix had corrupted her, and together they very nearly wiped out werewolves completely.” Bobbie shivered at this revelation. She may or may not believe in this wolfwitch, but the thought of a shifter not being able to shift was devastating. Not being able to run with the moon could very slowly kill any Were-creature. “Let‟s say, for the sake of argument, that I believe you about this woman. I still don‟t understand why you think my mate has anything to do with it. I was bitten two years ago by a rogue wolf, and Robert‟s pack took me in. Without a shadow of a doubt I can assure you that there have been no babies born or kidnapped in that time.” All the color suddenly drained from James‟s face. He grabbed her and pulled her to

SHIRELLE HIGGINS

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him with such intensity she flinched in anticipation of the blow she thought she was about to receive. What had she said? “Can you shift?” The question was so unexpected that she squeaked out, “No,” before she remembered to stop herself. Crap. Crap. Crap! What had she done? Her husband had been drilling it into her head for two years that she absolutely couldn‟t allow anyone outside the pack to know of her flaw. Who had ever heard of a shifter who couldn‟t shift? How many times had he drilled it into her head that she would be hunted down and killed because she was an abomination? She was just lucky that he had been fated to mate her and that his pack was so accepting. Otherwise...well, she didn‟t even want to think about what would‟ve happened if she‟d been left on her own. Right now she needed to worry about what a vampire might do with a Wereabomination.

WOLFWITCH

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*** James let go of the woman and stepped back in astonishment. How could they have missed this? How could they have been so blind? All this time they‟d been looking for a baby, but not once had any of them considered the wolfwitch was an adult. Werewolves could be “born” two ways. Physical birth, or by being bitten. And Bobbie had been bitten two years ago. No wonder they‟d never found what they were looking for. All this time she‟d been right in front of them. Bobbie was the wolfwitch.

CHAPTER THREE James was going to have to worry about convincing her who she was later. Right now he needed to focus on calming her down. She was increasingly more agitated and nervous— pacing, running her hands through her hair and tugging on her ears. Gone was the feisty passion she had shown when she‟d leaped from the trunk to stake him, along with her sarcastic humor at being told about her mate. And he was pretty sure he knew why. He hadn‟t missed the way she‟d flinched when he‟d grabbed her to ask if she could shift. The woman had staked him, spat holy water on him, and tried to rake his face off with her fingernails. She had laughed and scoffed at being told about the wolfwitch and her husband‟s suspected involvement. But when he‟d come at her suddenly and intensely, she had flinched. It wasn‟t anything big or dramatic, merely a slight movement of her

WOLFWITCH

29

head to the side. Probably she hadn‟t even been aware of the movement at all. He also hadn‟t failed to miss the lifeless look that had briefly replaced her animated bravado—the way her eyes flicked down in automatic submission before she remembered to show no weakness in the eyes of the enemy. James had known this woman for just a few hours, so it was surprising to him to find out how much he missed the fire she‟d shown earlier. Not surprising at all was his fierce desire to maim, humiliate and tear apart the man who had branded those reactions into her. He‟d killed a man just for beating her and stuffing her in a trunk. What more would he do to a man who had been treating her like that for two years? Oh yes, James knew it had to be her husband. Those kinds of reactions only came from being beaten and humiliated by those who were closest to you—the people who were supposed to love and protect you. These were the worst kind of betrayals. Fathers, mothers,

SHIRELLE HIGGINS

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boyfriends, spouses—the people who victimized those they supposedly “loved,” preying on the weak—these were the lowest forms of life on the planet. And James would suffer them no mercy. Robert had a world of hurt coming his way. But first he needed to bring back the fire in Bobbie. “You‟re worried about what Robert will do when he thinks you‟ve run off.” It was a statement, not a question, so Bobbie didn‟t bother answering. She didn‟t have to anyway; it was apparent in the expression she was having trouble veiling. Her mate must‟ve threatened her about what would happen if she ever took off. “I‟ll take care of it,” James stated as he handed her the phone. “Call your husband.” Bobbie shook her head in disbelief but punched in her mate‟s cell phone number and handed the phone back anyway. “I‟m going to try to negotiate your release. Your husband can‟t hold kidnapping against

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you,” he said reasonably. “At least he‟ll know you didn‟t run off and leave him.” James was only doing this for her benefit. As soon as he found the bastard...well, let‟s just say Bobbie would never have to fear him again. *** Mentally Bobbie rolled her eyes. She appreciated what James was trying to do for her, but it wouldn‟t matter anyway. In the end she‟d be punished for allowing herself to get kidnapped. What kind of dumb idiot was she anyway? Going for a walk on her own in the dark—not

paying

attention

to

her

surroundings. Maybe she really did deserve whatever punishment her mate was going to dish out. No, goddammit! She would not be a victim! How many books on abuse had she secretly read? How many times had she told herself it wasn‟t her fault? For exactly one year, six months, and

SHIRELLE HIGGINS

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three days she had been squirreling away money and planning her escape—trying to work up the courage to leave a man who said he‟d kill her if she left. The more time that passed, the harder it was to leave—the harder it was not to believe his lies—not to believe everything really was her fault. She had to leave before it was too late for her to believe she could. “Your

wife

is

currently

unharmed,”

James‟s voice broke through her worry. “Delay in delivering the wolfwitch, by even one second, and she will not remain so. In fact, I will take great pleasure in removing her head from her body, if for no other reason than to shut her up.” James‟s eyebrow raised in amusement when he caught Bobbie‟s look of indignation. She couldn‟t hear what her husband was saying, but the look of amusement quickly faded to one of cold fury. If she was afraid before, she was doubly so now. Why couldn‟t Robert just shut the hell up? The gun she‟d smelled earlier was now

WOLFWITCH

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aimed at her face. “You will regret saying that,” James spoke into the phone as he squeezed the trigger. *** Dead. She was dead, she had to be. Everything was black and she could no longer hear anything, so that meant she was dead, right? That stupid bastard killed her! The stupid bastard she‟d stupidly decided to trust. What kind of idiot trusts her kidnapper? And what was worse, her husband had pushed him into it with his big fat mouth! Bobbie swore as soon as she figured out how to haunt that idiot, she would. “Stop screaming!” James‟s voice barely registered. What was he saying? “Dammit, woman, I didn‟t shoot you! You‟re fine!” This time Bobbie registered the words he was speaking. Not dead? She really wasn‟t dead?

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Realizing that she was, in fact, screaming, Bobbie closed her mouth and cautiously opened one eye. Looking around, she saw the smoking gun still clutched in his right hand, the ridiculously pained expression on his face, and the bullet hole in the wall behind her. Briefly relief washed over her, but then she was up and punching the vampire bastard repeatedly in the arm for scaring the living daylights out of her. “What the hell was that?” she screamed between punches. “That bullet hole‟s not three feet from my head!” More punching. “You could‟ve killed me for real!” And she punched him one more time because he had the gall to look amused. “That‟s more like it.” He laughed. “What?” she screeched. He cleared his throat. “I said, „You‟re not going to like it,” he wisely amended. Bobbie lowered her arms but didn‟t step back, knowing it was very likely he would need to be punched again. “Uh-huh. What exactly

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did he say?” Now James shifted uncomfortably. “I won‟t repeat what he said, but let‟s just say it was pretty obvious he‟d rather have you dead than in the hands of anyone else.” The look of despair that washed over her face made him realize what a callous ass he was. She may or may not love the man, but he was still her mate. It must be devastating to realize he didn‟t care. Stepping forward, he put his arms around her, pulling her close, and she only resisted for a moment. The feel of her in his arms, suppressing sobs that she refused to give into, touched James in a way he thought wasn‟t possible. His dead heart simultaneously gloried in the wonderful way her body fit against his, and seethed against a man who could cause her so much pain—who didn‟t realize what a gift he‟d been given by having this woman for a mate. He pulled her closer. What he wouldn‟t give to have this woman for himself. And the depth of conviction in that one

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thought scared the hell out him.

CHAPTER FOUR Bobbie couldn‟t change, but that didn‟t mean the moon didn‟t call to her. Occasionally, in her old life, she had felt a call to dance skyclad beneath the moon. But now that she‟d been bitten it was a compulsion. She danced because she couldn‟t run with her pack. Her nose was pressed so firmly against the glass the windows were fogging up, and her skin felt so tight it was almost itchy. She had to dance. She needed to get outside. “What do you do during the full moon?” James‟s question hadn‟t startled her. He could move silently but had purposefully shuffled his way into the room. It was a thoughtful gesture and completely unexpected. Why would her kidnapper care if she was startled? James waited patiently for the answer she knew she shouldn‟t give. What right did he have to ask her that? It wasn‟t any of his damn business, not to mention her husband would

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kill her for revealing her flaws. So why did she answer him anyway? “I dance.” He was standing so close she could feel his breath across her neck. Although she managed to keep her body pressed against that window, all she could think about was leaning into him. She tilted her head slightly in invitation for the bite she was sure she was about to receive. So when he spoke instead of biting, she was disappointed—no, relieved. She was relieved. “If I let you out will you promise not to run?” Her heart leaped at his words, and she whirled around to face him. He was so close she had to press her back into the glass, and still they were breathing the same air. Not at all uncomfortable, he refused to back up, and Bobbie tried to pretend nonchalance as well. “Uh...what?”

Okay,

so

she

wasn‟t

pretending well, but at least she wasn‟t shifting and fidgeting. Much.

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“I said”—and now he was so close she was sure he could feel her heart pounding against his chest—“if I let you outside, will you promise not to run?” Closing her eyes, Bobbie struggled not to jump at what he was offering. There had to be a catch. Kidnappers don‟t give you something you want without getting something in return. Even her pack usually didn‟t give without taking. So what did he want? “Yes.” Her eyes popped open when she said the word. Apparently she didn‟t really care what it was going to cost her, she just desperately needed to get outside. Maybe later she would regret it, but right now she was going to dance! Shoving him aside, Bobbie ran out the door and down the steps with James‟s silky laughter trailing behind her, but when she threw open the door she discovered she still couldn‟t step over the threshold. Dammit! Of course it was too good to be true. “Why can‟t...” Before she could finish he‟d

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whirled her around and pulled her into his arms. Struggling wasn‟t even an option, since her brain decided not to work the second he pulled her into his embrace. Did all vampires make you want to jump their bones, or was this just his special talent? Leaning close, so close she licked her lips in anticipation of his kiss, James whispered, “You‟re free to leave my house.” Oh, right. He was releasing her from his previous demand that she not leave. Bobbie rubbed at the spot in her chest where her heart started to hurt. Must be indigestion, she lied to herself. She couldn‟t possibly be disappointed he hadn‟t kissed her. *** James didn‟t understand his desperate need to please Bobbie. He knew it was foolish to allow her even this small freedom. Who knew what the hell lurked out there, ready to take

advantage

of

an

honest-to-goodness

wolfwitch. But it was killing him to see the

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longing in her eyes as she pressed her nose against the glass. It was like watching a child being denied the opportunity to sit on Santa‟s lap. Who would be so heartless? However, he didn‟t understand the look that had flashed across her face after he released her. She should‟ve been jumping for joy, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. Or at the very least she could‟ve smiled in appreciation. Instead she had looked almost disappointed? Shaking his head, he followed her out the door and into the clearing behind his house. He would never understand women. James watched as Bobbie swayed her hips gracefully and began to pull off her clothes. Her need to dance was so strong that she hadn‟t even been fully out the door before her body instinctively began to move to the rhythm in her head. Even though she would never shift, it was apparent that she lacked human modesty, just as most wolves did, and within moments she was naked and focused

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solely on her dance. He felt like a peeping Tom watching her during such an intimate moment, but there was no way he was going to be able to tear his eyes away. The way she moved, it was almost as if her body was responding to the night air, allowing it to gently sway her in accordance with the moon‟s wishes. It didn‟t take long for him to forget whatever had just been vexing him and become completely entranced by this fascinating, frustrating she-devil of a woman. Not completely aware of what he was going to do, he took a step in her direction. *** Bobbie was so engrossed in her dancing she didn‟t hear the sound of James shedding his clothes or notice his advance. As she reached her right arm up toward the sky, his arm was just suddenly there, mimicking her movement perfectly. When she didn‟t start or pull away, he pressed his body close and

WOLFWITCH

shadowed

her

every

move

43

with

perfect

synchronicity. Every step she took, his bare leg would slide against hers with flawless balance. Every time she bent her body forward, his would follow seamlessly. He never faltered, never hindered any of her moves, just flowed behind her as if he knew the steps before she did. And maybe he did. There really was no way to guarantee that he stayed out of her head. Bobbie didn‟t care. For the moment she was just eternally grateful to have someone to dance with. Someone to share the moon with. Before tonight she had spent the full moons alone. But for now, for just this one moment in time, she felt whole. Who cared that the man who made her feel that way was technically her kidnapper? She was going to thoroughly enjoy this gift for as long as it lasted. Bobbie reached her arms up to the moon once more and let her head fall back to rest on James‟s chest. She gloried in the way his body slid smoothly against hers—the way his every

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movement echoed hers. Just to test him, she changed

her

rhythm

suddenly

and

was

pleasantly surprised when his body never strayed more than an inch from her own— perfectly in tune. Picking up speed, she gave herself completely over to the dance, no longer paying attention to whether James could keep up. It was just a given that he would be there. Every step, every reach, every lunge, his body would caress her own intimately. Breathing heavily now, Bobbie stretched herself one more time toward the moon, getting ready to wind down, when James surprised her. Instead of reaching with her, he slid his hands gently down her sides and grabbed her hips, lifting her effortlessly into the air. It was as if he were trying to get her even closer to the swollen moon. The lump in her throat and the tears stinging her eyes were evidence of how much his gesture had touched her. Gently, reverently, she was lowered to the ground. When she tried to turn in to James,

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though, he wouldn‟t let her. He gripped her wrists almost roughly and stretched her arms wide, completely taking over the dance. She wanted to pretend to be unaffected by his dominance, but her sharp intake of breath betrayed her excitement. Linking his fingers with her own, James arched them both backward, pulling her body tightly to his. The movement thrust her breasts toward the sky and forced her to lean heavily against him. He held her that way for several heartbeats,

exposing

her

to

the

night,

stretching her almost painfully. By now her chest was heaving, and her heart was beating wildly. Never before had anyone made her feel so vulnerable and wonderful all at the same time. The position he held her in pressed his arousal firmly against her back, and Bobbie was shocked to discover how tempted she was to rub her body against him. In fact, if he wasn‟t holding her so tightly, that was exactly what she‟d be doing. Sliding herself against him.

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Stroking her body up and down his... James‟s soft chuckle tore Bobbie out of her little fantasy. “I thought you were going to stay out of my mind,” she said breathlessly, still stretched to the limit against his body. Lifting his head slightly, he breathed in her ear. “I kept my promise.” He turned his face into her, inhaling her scent meaningfully. Now she was blushing. He didn‟t need to be in her head to know she was aroused; her scent was obviously overwhelming his vampire senses.

So

much

for

pretending

to

be

unaffected by him. And then he was moving her body again, and she forgot to care. She forgot to even breathe as his hands guided her own down to her chest. Using her fingers, he kneaded her breasts as he straightened them both to a more comfortable position. Not of their own accord, her

hands

were

caressing

and

rubbing,

alternately gentle and then rough. Never once touching her himself, he managed to tease her nipples into tight peaks, and when the night air

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blew across her sensitized flesh she moaned out loud. Unable to help herself, Bobbie rocked her hips rhythmically against him. Beyond caring about keeping her distance, she softly pleaded for more, and James granted her wish. Guiding one hand away from her breast, he slid it down her stomach and pressed her own fingers into the area of her body most screaming for his touch. It was almost too much. Bobbie‟s legs gave out, and James gently lowered them both to their knees, never once allowing her to stop her assault on her own body. “Please...” she begged, hoping to be heard above her own ragged breathing. He didn‟t hesitate to give her what she wanted. With his leg, James forced her thighs farther apart, then worked her fingers into a frenzy, stroking and teasing her own flesh. Bobbie was panting, struggling to catch her breath, when finally, blissfully, he pushed her over the edge into ecstasy. Screaming his name,

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she shattered into a million tiny pieces, and still he didn‟t release her—still continued to use her own fingers to caress herself until she sagged against him, spent. Finally he released her and she braced herself on her hands and knees, head hanging forward as she struggled to catch her breath. His hands gripped her hips painfully, fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Bobbie threw back her head, arching her back in clear invitation for what she expected to come next. Only it didn‟t come. Turning to look over her shoulder, she watched as James stood and walked away from her. He stopped only long enough to scoop up his clothes before walking into the house without once ever looking back. Furiously, she swiped at the one stupid tear that had managed to trail a path down her cheek. How could she have possibly allowed him to affect her like that? How could she have allowed him to participate in a ritual so

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important to her? And how could she have allowed him to worm his way into her heart enough to break it?

CHAPTER FIVE James was breathing so hard he was surprised he didn‟t pass out, and his body was shaking so much he didn‟t know how he was managing to keep a grip on his clothes. Hell, he couldn‟t even figure out how he was managing to walk, let alone walk away. He never should have let things get this far. No matter how attracted, desperately attracted to her he was, he never should have taken advantage when she was in such an obviously vulnerable state. The woman had finally showed a side of herself that wasn‟t snippy or snarky, and he had pawed at her like a horny teenager. Not to mention that she was already mated. What the hell was wrong with him? Throwing open the bathroom door so hard the doorknob left a hole in the wall, he dropped his clothes on the floor and turned the shower on cold. James stayed in the shower for a long time. Long enough that he should‟ve

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been experiencing some sort of relief by now, but he wasn‟t. He just couldn‟t stop thinking about the graceful way she swayed her hips, or the way the moonlight shimmered off her skin. Or the way her hair gently caressed her breasts as she danced to music only she could hear. Or... Dammit! Realizing the cold shower wasn‟t doing its job, he finally turned it off and stepped out of the tub. Tying a towel around his waist, he stepped out into the hallway. The incredibly dark and quiet hallway. Crap! He had forgotten to demand that she stay in the house. She was probably halfway to her packlands by now. Running straight to the nearest window, he looked outside, trying in vain to get a glimpse of her fleeing. What an idiot he was! He‟d allowed his hormones to get in the way of a job so important that the survival of an entire species very literally depended on it. How could he be so... “What the hell are you looking for?”

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Bobbie‟s very irritated voice damn near gave him a heart attack. He was going to have to call in a replacement if he couldn‟t even sense a werewolf in his own home. Hell, he was going to have to call in a replacement because he couldn‟t keep his hormones under control. Even now his body was rock hard and ready for her. Slowly he turned toward her, trying to figure out why she didn‟t run. Was it because her mate was the lowest of all life forms and she never wanted to see him again? James could only hope that was the answer. Not that it would make a difference—she was still bound to another man—but at least it would mean she was sensible. And then it hit him. The reason she didn‟t run. Even from here he could see the puffiness around her eyes that meant she had been crying. Even an hour after his hands had been on her, he could still scent her arousal. Closing his eyes, he very clearly recalled the way she had opened herself up to him, willingly inviting

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him to take her. She had wanted him, and he had just walked away. How could he possibly resist her now? He tried to remind himself that she was another man‟s wife. Even if the man was a douchebag, she still belonged to him. Fate had decreed it, right? So why was he pulling her into his arms? Why was he devouring her lips as if they held the very breath of life? And why was she so yielding and pliant in his arms? *** Bobbie‟s heart, which had moments ago been broken, was now soaring in ecstasy. This was what she had dreamed of—fantasized about—lain awake wishing for. This man who looked at her as if she was the only woman in the world and held her as if she was precious. Both passionate and gentle, fiercely protective but never smothering. He was the mate she had always dreamed of. Damn the fates for being sick, twisted

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bitches! “Touch me,” she begged anyway, and his hand slid down her back to grip her bare bottom, taking full advantage of the fact that all she wore was a t-shirt. Her legs wrapped around his waist because they had a mind of their own. His towel dropped. Somehow her t-shirt came off. “I can‟t...” “I know...” And still they continued stroking and kissing. Teasing and caressing. Tasting and nibbling. Neither of them seemed to be able to get close enough—touch enough—have enough naked

skin

sliding

against

naked

skin.

“Please...” she begged when she felt his arousal so close to where she wanted it to be. Only his hands tightly gripping her hips kept her from taking what she wanted. Tearing his lips from hers, James tried once more to be reasonable. “We can‟t do this.” His

words

were

breathless

and

lacked

conviction, but still he held her motionless.

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Groaning, she threw back her head in another kind of invitation. “Please,” she begged again. “I need you. I need more of you.” And she did. If he didn‟t claim her, enter her or bite her, she was going to die. Just explode into a billion flaming bits. Fangs burst from his gums as his gaze slid from the seductive pulse in her neck to the heaving breasts pressed firmly against his chest. How was he possibly going to be able to resist? Testing the limits of his self-control, he gently scraped his fangs across her throat while his tongue darted out to taste the sweet desire on her skin. This woman had awoken cravings that had lain dormant in him for centuries, and he shook with the force of their return. Even though he held her still, he couldn‟t help but grind his own hips against her, desperately seeking relief. Just one sip, one tiny taste of her blood, and he knew he‟d be lost forever. About to make another feeble protest, James stilled as a new scent invaded his senses.

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It was barely there and completely unexpected, but there was no denying it. He smelled ink. And it was coming from her arm. Brushing his fingertips across her mating mark confirmed what his nose had already told him. “It‟s a tattoo. Your mating mark is fake.” He watched as the glassy look of desire faded from her eyes to be replaced by cold fury. Reaching up, she brushed her own fingers across the mark, and James knew the instant she realized it was true. Wiping away the single tear that trailed down her cheek, he whispered, “I‟m so sorry,” while pulling her into his embrace. How horrible it must be to realize that the last two years had been a lie. That she‟d been forced to endure abuse and humiliation with a man who had lied about being her mate. “Never again,” he vowed. “Never again will that man lay a hand on you.” He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “I swear on my life I will never let him hurt you again.” Before he could even complete the

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sentiment, glass exploded behind him, and suddenly a silver-tipped, wooden arrow was protruding

from

Bobbie‟s

shoulder.

She

screamed in pain, and before the second arrow could find its mark, James had them both on the ground. Yanking the arrow out of her arm, he assessed

the

damage.

The

wound

was

blistering, and probably horrifyingly painful, but it didn‟t appear to be spreading. Luckily, her inability to shift was balanced by a resistance to silver most shifters didn‟t share. He glanced at the arrow in his hand. Silver could kill a werewolf, wood a vampire. Whoever was outside obviously didn‟t care which of them he killed. “Can you move?” When she nodded her head he shoved the t-shirt into her hands, then donned the sweats he‟d loaned her earlier. Keeping them low to the ground, he helped her crawl to the trap door and down the ladder into the passageway beneath the house. Never before had his paranoia paid off so well. Or at

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least that was what he‟d been thinking before he was shot in the chest.

CHAPTER SIX How the hell had they been found? Going down hard, he heard Bobbie‟s bones snap from the impact of what was probably a bat. She didn‟t even cry out when she fell to the ground. Just looked up hatefully at the man who had caused her so much grief and demanded, “What the hell did you do to him, you bastard!” His heart swelled with pride and fear. He didn‟t think he was going to be able to keep his promise to keep her safe, but he was positive she was going to be okay. James was confident she would discover the power she held within her. The strength she needed to finally stand up to that bastard. “Dead man‟s blood, sweetheart,” Robert answered

her

question

mockingly.

“Your

boyfriend‟s just a little too old for the usual methods.” Dead man‟s blood? Bobbie‟s mind raced

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as she tried to recall what that would do to a vampire. She never kept it on her because there were more effective ways to kill a vampire. Dead man‟s blood was like a slow-acting poison. It simply took so long to kill, and usually they managed to get away and get help. How long would it take for the blood to weaken James to the point of death? Looking back to her fake mate, she realized it didn‟t matter how long it would take. Robert wasn‟t going to wait for the poison to kill James; he had just needed to weaken the vampire long enough to give himself time to change. Wolf bites could kill vampires, at least the young and weak. The sickening sound of bones breaking and rearranging were all she could hear at the moment. Everything else was still, as if the world itself was waiting for James‟s inevitable death. Nothing moved; nothing even breathed as Robert was taken over by the change. Bobbie tore her eyes from the sight that

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had always both sickened and fascinated her. She needed to concentrate—needed to find a way to stop him in the precious few seconds she had left before the change was complete, because neither of them were a match for a werewolf in their current state. Cradling her broken arm, she looked around for the silver knife James had dropped when he‟d been hit. Full-blooded Weres were highly sensitive to silver and, if not treated swiftly and properly, even a small cut would spread and fester causing an indescribably painful death. And Robert was a full-blooded Were. If she could just manage to scratch him, or better yet, stab him, then she might have a fighting chance. Something glinted just beyond her reach, and Bobbie crawled as stealthily as she could with her mangled arm to the knife she hoped would be their salvation. Picking it up, she realized that even the handle had been made of silver. Her hand was burning and blistering already, but she refused

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to cry out in pain or drop the precious weapon. She had no idea how long she could handle silver before it would eventually kill her, but it didn‟t matter. A thousand deaths were worth saving this one precious life. Triumphantly she rolled over and held the dagger high above her head, aiming to strike at the meatiest part of his thigh, but even halfway through the change he was faster than her. Raking his already elongated claws across her arm, damaging muscle and tendon, he forced her to drop the weapon, and a backhand to the face dropped her to the ground. Tears leaked from her eyes as pain briefly paralyzed her. Both her arms were now completely useless, and she cried in frustration at her helplessness. Knowing that she would spend the rest of her life a prisoner, forced to perform unspeakable acts against others, was nothing compared to the pain of losing the man she suddenly knew was meant to be her mate. Unable to move her fingers, Bobbie reached out and laid her hand across James‟s

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cheek. He struggled to move his head to meet her gaze, and she was amazed at what she saw in his eyes. It wasn‟t disappointment, or pleading like she would‟ve expected from Robert. No, all she saw in James‟s eyes was love and longing. Sorrow and a fierce frustration at not being able to keep the vow he‟d made to keep her safe. Her heart swelled to the point of bursting at the love he managed to convey with just a look, and suddenly she felt a strength flowing through her she never knew she possessed. Using her mangled arms to help her stand and not even registering the pain, Bobbie rose and met the glowing golden eyes of the man who had made her life miserable for the past two years. His shocked look only spurred her on. “I‟ll show you what it means to be a wolfwitch,” she seethed in a voice she barely recognized.

Immediately

memories

and

impressions assaulted her from the wolfwitches who had come before her. A power that was both amazing and terrifying flowed through her

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veins, drawn from the moon, and she knew, she knew what she had to do. *** James watched helplessly as the woman he loved pulled from a power she wasn‟t trained to use. He was both proud and terrified at the same time. Proud because his mate—and he knew she was his mate—was standing up to the man who had terrorized her. Without fear or hesitation she embraced her destiny because his own life was in danger. Terror because the power she hadn‟t been trained to use would likely consume her, leaving nothing but an empty shell of a woman. He had to help her. Reaching out to lay a hand on her ankle, he used the last of his strength to help her focus her power. It took everything he had, and the rest of the power borrowed from the Fae, but he forced his strength into her, and his heart swelled with pride when he felt her take back control of her

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gift. Throwing out her arms, Bobbie released the fury of a wolfwitch.

CHAPTER SEVEN Robert‟s eyes bulged in shock as he realized that he was stuck mid-shift. His mouth moved, but no sound would come from his rearranged vocal chords. Panicking, he tried to swipe at Bobbie, but she was in complete control now, and he could only watch in horror as his claws were painfully forced to retract. If he could scream he would. Clawing now at his own

deformed

face,

Robert

finally

fell,

unmoving, to the ground. *** Not knowing if he was still alive, Bobbie cautiously took a step forward to look down at the mess that was her pretend mate. She knew, positively knew, that what she‟d done was irreversible. Dead or alive, he would forever be stuck between man and wolf. And truthfully, deep down in a part of her

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soul she wouldn‟t admit to having, there was a viciousness that burned. She hoped he was still alive. Just so he could suffer the humiliation of his mutated features for as long as possible. Of course, not being able to shift with the moon would eventually kill him anyway, but still, she was content with the fact that he would suffer for at least a little while. Turning away from Robert, for hopefully the last time, Bobbie dropped to the ground to embrace her real mate. The tears flowed freely as she hovered over James‟s dying body. All of this couldn‟t have been for nothing. She couldn‟t have found the mate of her dreams only to lose him. It couldn‟t end like this. “Please,” she begged as she offered up her bleeding arm. “Please drink from me.” Weakly he shook his head. “I can‟t,” he whispered, “you‟re too weak. It‟ll kill you.” Anger now overrode her fear, and her words came out harsh. “Dammit, James! I didn‟t save your ass just to lose it now. You will drink, or so-help-me-God, I will find a way to

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force it down your throat!” And just to prove her point, she smeared her blood across his lips. *** If James could have smiled, he would have. He loved his feisty little Were-devil, but he just couldn‟t allow her to do this. Taking her blood would weaken her too much, and her injuries were too great for her to survive. Instead he closed his eyes and gloried in her loving embrace as he waited for his inevitable death. And immediately realized just how much he had underestimated his woman. Even with her broken and mangled arms, she managed to force his mouth open and make good on her word. When that first drop of blood hit his tongue, his fangs exploded and survival instincts took over. Unable to stop himself, he drank what she offered. And the next thing he knew he was looking down at her

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dying body. Stroking her hair, he leaned close to whisper in her ear. “You infuriating, frustrating woman. You should have listened to me.” He continued to stroke her hair lovingly, not knowing if what he was about to do would save her or kill her faster. Small amounts of vampire blood could heal without turning someone. However, just like wolf bites were toxic to vampires, vampire blood could kill a werewolf. Slowly. He wouldn‟t wish that on his worst enemy, but if there was even a remote possibility he could save her... Well, he would just leave it up to her. Lifting her head just a little he gave her a choice. “Bobbie.” Her eyes looked back at him dazedly. “Bobbie,” he repeated more firmly, and her eyes finally focused. “I think I can save you. If you took just a little of my blood, it could help to heal you. But...” He trailed off, losing his nerve momentarily. How could he risk what might happen to her?

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Weakly, she reached her hand up to cup his cheek. “I know what the risks are,” she whispered. “I know what your blood can do to a shifter.” The love and acceptance in her eyes made his heart race with joy. If he didn‟t know he loved her before, he absolutely knew it now. No matter how little time they may have had together, he was grateful to the fates for sending him this amazing woman. If she died, he would follow. He couldn‟t possibly live without her. “I want to try,” her weak voice cut through his heart. “Please, I know the risks. I want to be with you. Even if for just a little longer.” Unable to deny this woman anything, James bit his wrist and held his bleeding arm just out of reach of her lips. In answer to her confused look, he explained, “A werewolf male only needs to nip his destined woman to become her mate. A vampire, however, needs a complete

blood

exchange.”

He

paused,

searching for the strength to face possible

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rejection. “If I do this...if I do this and you live, we will very likely be mated. I know it. Deep down in my soul, I know you were meant for me.” After living with an abusive husband, he expected horror to cross her face. Or at least disgust or revulsion at being faced with another mate so soon. She needed time to heal. “I‟ll do it anyway,” he went on quickly. “Even if you decide to never see me again, I‟ll do it.” There wasn‟t a fate worse than a vampire being kept from his mate, but it would be worth it to know that she would live. He was about to explain that to her when she surprised him. “I know you‟re my mate.” She smiled weakly. “I want to take your blood. Even if I die anyway, I still want to be your wife. For whatever time I have left.” That undid him. His heart breaking and soaring at the same time, James held his wrist to her lips. The weak pulling sensation told him just how close to death she was.

CHAPTER EIGHT A single blood-tinged tear ran down James‟s cheek as he carried Bobbie‟s limp body back to his house and laid her carefully on his couch. It had been agonizing—torturous—to watch her react to the blood he‟d given her, not knowing whether she‟d been writhing from poison burning through her veins or the pain of flesh and bone knitting back together. Now he knew. He felt a tentative awareness in his mind, a spark of light that grew bolder as it stretched and made a home around his heart. “Welcome back, beautiful,” he whispered when her eyes fluttered open. A glorious smile was her response, and he laughed when she enthusiastically bounded off the couch to stand before the decorative mirror. Turning this way and that, not finding what she was looking for, her brows furrowed and her lips

pouted

in

disappointment.

“I

don‟t

understand,” she started to say, but he was

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already behind her, body pressed tightly against hers, lifting her arm for her inspection. He knew she needed to see the mating mark, to know for sure that it was real—she just hadn‟t known where to look for it. “I‟m not a wolf,” he explained. “Your mating mark shows up where I marked you as mine.” He held his own wrist up for her inspection, so she could see the identical mark in the same location where she had drank from him. “They‟re beautiful,” she breathed, tracing a finger lightly over his mark. James‟s breath shuddered out of him. Such an innocent touch to awaken such fierce desires. He had to grab her wrists to hold her still before he lost control. Looking

into

the

mirror,

over

her

shoulder, he met her surprised gaze. His fangs were fully extended, his eyes glowing red. He looked frightful—the thing that nightmares are made of—but she didn‟t flinch. God help him; she didn‟t flinch from him, and his heart burst

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with the love and acceptance he could feel from her. He knew he should let her rest, but he was no longer in complete control of his body. Bracing her hands against the cool glass, he leaned forward to lightly nip at her ear while she was helpless to do anything but watch. The fluttering of her pulse and the moan that escaped her lips almost made him lose his mind. He wasn‟t sure he could manage to be gentle, or patient, or anything else she might need right now. Watching her gaze track the movement, he slid his hands from her wrists to her shoulders, then slowly down her sides until they hovered just at the edge of her breasts. Her eyes darkened with desire and her scent overwhelmed his senses until he was drunk with her wanting, and still he let her make the choice. Breathing

heavily,

she

arched her back,

thrusting her breasts into the palms of his hands, right where she wanted them. He kneaded and teased the lush bounty she had

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provided him, and soon her hips were rocking back against him. Bare flesh slid against bare flesh, taunting him with what he wanted so close to where he wanted it. When she moaned low and needy in the back of her throat, he almost lost the tenuous grip he had on his control. Nuzzling his face in her hair, breathing her in deep, he nudged her legs just a little farther apart. Slowly he pressed into her, stretching her. Taking her one slow, torturous inch at a time. When she moved her hips, trying to take more of him, he again held her still, completely in control of their lovemaking. He took a savage joy in hearing her whimper her frustration. An awareness, the bright shining light inside of him that was Bobbie, began to unfurl and make herself known, and he was astonished at what she showed him. He almost laughed his relief. Bracing one arm against the mirror, James locked the other around her waist to hold her tight to him and let himself lose control. She hadn‟t wanted gentle. She hadn‟t

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wanted to be treated like she was fragile or vulnerable or breakable. No. His woman wanted her mate to be wildly out of control with his need for her—branding her—marking her so no one could ever be in doubt about whom she belonged to. She needed to feel needed. And since his very breath now depended solely on her happiness, it wasn‟t hard for him to prove to her how incredibly needed she was. He took her savagely, with wild abandon, until she screamed his name—not once, but twice—and when her body shook and her knees gave out, he held her up so he could take her again. And because her wolf needed it, the wolf she would never be able to release, he bit down on her shoulder, marking her—branding her the only way her wolf would accept. With her blood on his lips, a scream torn from her throat, his world finally, blissfully came undone. Shattering into millions of tiny bits of ecstasy, they both sank to the floor in exhaustion, as James rained kisses across the

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hurt he had inflicted. “Next time,” he whispered in her ear when he could finally breathe again, “I‟ll try to make it to the bedroom.” Nothing in the world was as beautiful as hearing his woman‟s tinkling laughter. He had one moment, just one moment of perfect bliss before it was shattered by the realization that there was a presence barreling down on them. Dammit! He‟d forgotten that in his distress, in the moment he feared he would die, he‟d sent out a call to the only vampire in the world he had a blood-bond with. The only vampire he‟d ever sired. Even dying, he‟d been trying to make sure someone would care for Bobbie. Hastily he pulled a sheet over her body as the front door was kicked in. Justin did always have a flare for the dramatic, not even bothering to check if it had been unlocked. *** “I got here as fast as I could,” the new

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vampire stated. Mind reaching out and nostrils flaring wide, Justin assessed any threats in the area. But what he noticed in the room was even more surprising than being summoned by his sire. He didn‟t even bother hiding his shock—or amusement—at discovering with his eyes what his other senses had already told him. “Wow.” Justin shook his head and didn‟t even

pretend

to

cower

under

James‟s

thunderous gaze. “I never would have pegged you for the type of man to steal another man‟s wife.” And the only thing that saved the idiot vampire from being turned into a pile of ash was the soft hand that was cupping James‟s face and pulling him in for another kiss. “Don‟t let me interrupt or anything,” the third wheel‟s voice was mockingly loud. “I‟ll just take care of the werewolf mess you left for me outside.” And the mental “push” James gave him made sure the younger vampire complied. But it didn‟t stop the laughter he heard from beyond the door.

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*** Pulling James‟s attention back to herself, Bobbie ran her thumb across the pink-tinted trail his tear had left and pressed soft lips against his own. The kiss was tentative at first— exhausted—but it didn‟t take long for it to become intense and frenzied. And it didn‟t take long for James to completely forget there had ever been an interruption to begin with.

EPILOGUE Brushing her fingertips across her days‟ old mating mark, Bobbie followed her husband through the doors of the building with trepidation. Would she fit in? Would they like her? Would she even be able to pull off this wolfwitch thing? James squeezed her hand in reassurance and led her through the lobby and up the stairs. Her heart pounding, he didn‟t even give her a moment to compose herself before he threw open a door revealing a very large conference room, complete with the most intimidating, beautiful men she‟d ever seen, sitting at a round

table

like

King

Arthur‟s

knights.

Knowing that every one of them could probably smell her fear, she didn‟t even bother trying to hide her nervousness. The man who had to be the “King Arthur” of this band of frightening men approached her. He was stunningly beautiful (apparently

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that was a necessity of being “supernatural”), but she couldn‟t identify his ethnicity. With long, straight brown hair, large almond-shaped eyes, chiseled nose and jaw, and copper-toned skin, this man could have been anything. Greek, Native American, Egyptian...he could even pass for an Aztec warrior. Bobbie realized he was speaking to her and struggled to pay attention. “We‟re honored to have you with us, Wolfwitch. We hope you will consider staying with us. Our organization would be blessed to have someone of your talents.” Wow, Bobbie thought, and he’s charming too. Relaxing slightly when her mate put his arms possessively around her, she nodded her thanks and tried not to smile while she thought about what kind of havoc James would create if she spent any more time under their leader‟s intense gaze. He was doing the best he could, but her mate was still a man. A fiercely protective, jealous, Alpha one at that. And she wouldn‟t have it any other way.

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Stepping

carefully

away

from

the

Egyptian or Aztec-whatever and looking around the room, she noticed that one of the men staring back at her looked vaguely familiar. His long blond hair flowed well past his shoulders, and he was almost too pretty to look at. He met her eyes knowingly, and she knew they‟d crossed paths before. How could she forget where she‟d met a creature that looked like that? Glancing up at her husband, she noticed he was fidgeting uncomfortably. Narrowing her eyes at him, she waited for him to confess. “That, uh, is Cas. You met him briefly when you were first brought to me.” Folding her arms and tapping her foot, she raised her eyebrows to let him know he needed to continue. “Yes, well, you see...I couldn‟t control you, and you were so distressed and screaming and I needed to do something. I was afraid you would hurt yourself, so I called in a favor from the Fae.” Fae? Well, no wonder he was beautiful. She kept the stern look on her face, but

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inwardly she was smiling. The fact that he had been able to control her had been the one black mark on their relationship—the one thing that had worried her immensely. Bobbie hadn‟t been worried that he would, but the fact that he could had weighed heavily on her. Feeling like the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders, she laughed and threw her arms around her husband. Lacking any modesty, and indeed, not even remotely nervous anymore, she gave her husband a kiss that nearly took him to his knees. While he was recovering she turned to address the room, knowing without a doubt that she would find her place here. “First things first,” she stated grandly. “Who do I need to talk to about changing that ridiculous name?”

Shirelle**

**

SHIRELLE HIGGINS Shirelle Higgins was raised in Orange County, California, but now resides in southwest Michigan with her husband and daughter. She has always had an intense love of reading, often ignoring her chores for a good story. In school she would even hide books in her lap so she could read without interruption from her teachers‟ pesky lectures. Not so long ago, a dear friend insisted that Shirelle read a book that was outside the box of her “normal” reads. The Circle Trilogy by Nora Roberts opened the door to a whole new realm of stories Shirelle would never have read before. And eventually helped her realize what she wanted to be when she “grows up.” Come join her on the adventure.

You can

contact Shirelle at [email protected].